


pynch

by ronanlunch



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: M/M, Multi, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:50:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 5,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2112324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlunch/pseuds/ronanlunch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>these are my pynch prompts everything is very confusing bear with me</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. dream humping

another night, another hour where ronan had to lie uncomfortably on his mattress trying to ignore adam touching himself in his sleep, moaning and biting his lips.  
at first, ronan had been convinced adam wasn’t really asleep, but just secretly trying to get off in the middle of the night cause he was  _just that desperate_  but when ronan had tried talking to him (sue him for not wanting to listen to his major crush cuming in bed next to him without checking to see if there was any chance he could join, okay) and adam had not answered, and not seemed particularly awkward or embarrassed the morning after, ronan had realised this was a dream activity. kinda like sleep walking. sleep wanking.  
he would be lying if he said he wasn’t into it, but he never did anything about his growing erection. touching himself to the sounds felt wrong, or at least it should do. so here he was, on the uncomfortable, cheap mattress (and he _was_  trying to convince adam to allow ronan to buy a new one. it wasn’t  _him_  ruining his back, damnit) with an uncomfortable, cheap problem between his legs and a very comfortable, not cheap at all best friend lying basically next to him moaning … his name? wait, what. ronan sat up abruptly. no, he had definitely heard correctly. the tiny sounds escaping adam’s lips were distinct  _ronan_ s.  
oh, fuck.  
resigned, he eased himself back onto the mattress and splayed his fingers over the bulge, everything safely tucked into his boxers. this was innocent enough, right? basically the same as arms out of the covers. fingers out of the boxer. that was to be the rule now.  
he palmed himself through the thin fabric, let his fingers wrap around his balls and tugged slightly, a small gasp escaping his lips. stroking harder, his breath soon became laboured.  
 _ronan, oh, ronan … ronan. ronan?_ **** _ronan?  
_ ronan opened his eyes abruptly. the  _ronan_ s had changed tone and the shadow in the bed next to him was no longer lying flat. no, he was sitting up.  
oh, shit.  
“ronan, what are you doing?” adam sounded tired and confused.  
“the fuck does it look like i’m doing, parrish?”  
“i- i don’t know? you sounded weird. i was worried you were having a nightmare or something, and i wanted to help. was that not… oh.” adam had apparently noticed the placement of ronan’s arms and the prominent swelling of the covers.  
“oh,” he repeated.  
before ronan could come with a biting remark, adam had joined him on the mattress, slowly removing the covers.  
“oh,” he said again, but this time differently. it was definitely different.  
leaning down, adam wrapped his lips around the fabric, pressing softly on the bulge, before using his fingers to ease the leaking dick out of the boxers. his fingers around him, stroking a little uncertain, he looked up at ronan, a determined look on his face.  
“well, i said i would help.”


	2. ronan stares at adam and adam notices

it was one of the hotter days of the summer, and adam had reluctantly allowed ronan to buy him a popsicle, on the premise that adam paid next time. both boys knew that next time, ronan would deny ever agreeing to anything even remotely like that, but it allowed adam to keep some of his dignity. he was working hard at making sure the popsicle didn’t drip everywhere when he noticed ronan glancing at him. however, when he looks up, ronan is deeply engaged with his own cup of ice cream, so adam continues lapping at the quickly melting treat. to his frustration, the sticky mess gets on his hands, and he puts it in his mouth, sucking in his cheeks to keep it in place while he wipes his hands on his thighs. again, ronan is staring at him, so adam looks over quickly, only to have ronan turn his head and gaze out into nothing. removing the popsicle and continuing the constant licking, he starts to wonder if he smells. he’s low on deodorant, so there is a distinct possibility that he does indeed stink. self-consciously shuffling away from ronan, he leads the slowly shrinking popsicle to his mouth, only to have it break in two and fall into his lap. tongue still out, he swears quietly but is abruptly interrupted by ronan forcing his own cup of ice cream on him, mumbling something about him finishing it, he needed to go to the toilet. adam dries himself off before starting on what was left of ronan’s ice cream. he is cleaning the spoon with his tongue when he realises that ronan is back, staring at him with wide eyes. “what,” he asks, and ronan takes the spoon and cup from him and throws them away, mumbling “i swear you will be the death of me. come on, let’s go.”


	3. in a swimming pool

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i’m imagining that they’re at the ganseys (and like the ganseys are gone cause i ain’t having my babies dealing with them) so i guess gansey iii is house sitting or whatever rich people do

the sun is making the pool glitter, its reflection on the water forcing adam to shield his eyes, squinting slightly as he sits on the side, feet relaxing in the azure cold. with some effort, he can imagine this is all his. that he grew up in this house, with this garden and this pool. that one of the windows behind him hide his room. but he knows it’s not. not yet, anyway.

a shadow falls over him, and adam frowns up at ronan’s towering shape. he is wearing a ridiculous sunhat, the shadows creating patches of lights dancing over his cheekbones as he gazes out over the gardens. “you look ridiculous,” adam says, just to make sure ronan is aware. “fuck you, parrish,” ronan replies, not even gracing him with a look.

he sits down, dipping his toes gingerly in the pool. “shit, it’s cold,” he comments, and adam laughs. “just get it over with.” “easy for you to say, poor boy, you’re used to freezing water,” ronan huffs before plunging his legs in with a very un-ronan-like shriek. as adam is still half dreaming, the words hit him harder than they usually would. he gives ronan a shove, which proves more effective than he anticipated, as ronan tumbles, face first, into the pool. the sunhat floats away peacefully before ronan breaks the surface, anything but. “the fuck you do that for?” he splutters, taking a hold of adam’s legs, trying to pull him in with him. adam holds on tight to the edge and tries to kick ronan off, feeling a panicked laughter rising in his chest.

suddenly he stops, realising how close they are. ronan is situated between adam’s legs, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other on his waist, while adam is leaning forward, pushing him away, and in the stillness he can feel ronan’s laboured breath on his face. the tension is unnerving and it doesn’t help that ronan won’t stop looking at him, his hand still holding on clammily to his waist. uncertain and confused, adam leans forward slightly, glancing down at the other boy’s lips. ronan takes this opportunity to haul him into the water, wild laughter audible even before adam breaks the surface, gasping.


	4. bacon pancakes

Adam woke to dull banging noises from the shared kitchen at St. Agnes. There weren’t supposed to be anyone there in the middle of the night, he was pretty sure. He stayed in bed for a little, wondering if he could be bothered to get up and scare off any potential burglars. It didn’t take him long to mentally count the little money he had left that month, and realise that if the intruder decided to do something stupid, like leave the fridge door open, he could not afford to replace the spoilt food. Groaning, he got out of bed and, taking with him an especially heavy text book, creeped out his room and towards the kitchen.

The light was on and the noise was louder from here - the trespasser definitely wasn’t concerned with being discreet. Adam half wondered if it would be more effective to throw the book straight away, or if he should just threaten to hit the person with it, before he peeked through the kitchen door.

Ronan was there, surrounded by plastic bags filled with groceries, and with a manic expression. Adam could feel the anxiety leave his tense muscles and be replaced by irritation. “What are you doing here?” Ronan turned partially around, grinning at him. “Parrish, you’re up! I’m making bacon pancakes.” Adam rubbed his eyes tiredly, and sat down on the kitchen counter. “What?” “It’s this thing I saw online. You see, you put the bacon inside -” “No,” Adam interrupted him, “what are you doing here?” The other boy sent him a glare like he was the most oblivious person Ronan knew, which, Adam was half sure, wasn’t actually true. “It’s not like Monmouth has a kitchen, is it?”

Sighing, Adam contemplated going back to sleep, but the smell of bacon had woken him up true. “How did you even get in?” he asked, fishing up a piece of finished bacon from a bowl. “There’s school tomorrow. Shouldn’t you be in bed or something?” Ronan pushed him off the counter and started mixing up a batter. “Nope,” he sang, “snow day. Also, I have a key.” Adam startled. “You have a what now?” “Fucking shit, Parrish, go get some coffee,” he gestured towards the pot on the table, “I think you need it. I know where they keep the spare key, okay, for safety reasons.” Adam did pour himself some coffee, but begrudgingly. “Safety reasons like you needing to make pancakes in the middle of the night?” “Now you’re catching up,” Ronan said, sounding pleased. “Come on, sit your ass down and tell me if this is as good as I think it is.”


	5. are you flirting with me

although winter hasn’t arrived for real, there is a chill in the air forcing the two boys to huddle together in bed whenever ronan stays too late and decides it’s better to go back in the morning. despite the fact that it’s cramped, being a single bed, he can’t say he misses the mattress on the floor. he can’t say he misses it at all. the warm body pressed against his, the conversations quickly turning intimate, the even breath of adam against his cheek when the other boy finally falls asleep. the bed is a great improvement from the mattress.

in the morning, he always wakes before adam. it’s easy, staying under the heavy covers, watching him sleep, face smooth without the worry that lines his face by day. what’s hard is keeping his fingers from brushing the hair out of adam’s eyes, controlling his body from edging closer, staying his mouth from leaning in and caressing the lips of the other boy. but he manages. these early hours are holier to ronan than prayers at sunday. it is a lucky coincidence that both take place in a church.

he has learned to recognize the signs of adam waking, the fluttering eyelids, the twitching lips, the quickening of his breath, giving him enough time to sneak out of bed and head to the bathroom, give adam space to wake at his own pace. then, maybe, he can crawl back into bed and they can continue the conversations from the night before.

on this specific morning, when returning, ronan finds adam with a worried look on his face. “what’s wrong, parrish?” ronan asks, throwing himself onto the bed. “they called me from the garage and told me i didn’t need to come in today.” “sounds like good news to me, why do you look like someone killed your favorite aunt?” “they’re laying off people. i don’t know what i’ll do if i lose that job, ronan, i don’t have the skill to do anything else.” “that’s bullshit,” he grins. “you’re a fairly decent bed warmer.” “wait,” adam frowns, pushing ronan away slightly. “are you flirting with me?” there is a beat where ronan considers the implications of the question, that he might have gone too far, but when he sees the mischievous glint in the other boy’s eyes, he relaxes, letting their fingers tangle together. “maybe i am, parrish. what are you going to do about it?”


	6. secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, so here ronan attacked robert and adam moved into st. agnes before they met blue (i’m assuming there weren’t any sleepovers at the doublewide okay, just roll with it)

Adam never thought he would find friends at Aglionby. When he got in, friends were never even a part of his plan. He would go there, get top grades, graduate and go to a respectable college, get top grades, graduate and find a well-paying job. Along the way he would acquire a wife, kids would come, he would buy a house, a car, get away from Henrietta for good. Friends would be a bonus at best, an inconvenience at worst.

However, after offering to fix Gansey’s car, he had found himself with not only one but three friends who were willing to spend time with him, who asked him for advice, who valued him. For the first time in his life, Adam feels important. And here he is, with Ronan Lynch lying on a mattress on his floor, at one of their countless sleepovers. Adam had never had sleepovers before he met Ronan. Scary, mean, arrogant Ronan, who had accepted him as his friend without question, who protected him against snide remarks at school, who had punched his father and found him a place to stay. A place to call his own.

The room is dark and quiet after their discussion of which planet they would go to first if they could choose. When Adam had answered the Moon, Ronan had complained, saying that seeing as it wasn’t a planet it wasn’t a fair choice. Adam had retorted that Ronan’s pick of Coruscant wasn’t really orthodox either. The Moon seemed quiet — no homework, no abusing parents, no part time jobs,. Definitely not three, anyway. Just constant black, star-dotted quiet.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Adam asks, breaking the silence. It’s still weird, wanting to share his secrets with others and having someone to actually tell, but at the same time, it feels good. Strange. New.  
“Of course,” Ronan responds, and Adam can hear shuffling from the mattress, sees the faint silhouette shift slightly. He pauses, suddenly feeling awkward. What if Ronan just laughs at him?  
“I think I’m in love,” he blurts out, before taking a deep breath and trying again.  
“I might be in love,” he says, slower this time. The mattress is silent. Ronan seems frozen.  
“I don’t know, it’s, it’s weird. But yes, I think I have a crush on someone,” Adam continues, feeling awkward. The response isn’t what he was expecting, the silence suddenly feels charged.  
“Who?” asks Ronan then, his voice sharp.  
“This waitress at Nino’s. The one with the dark hair? She’s kinda short.”  
Ronan shuffles again before laughing loudly.  
“Oh,” he says, as if he just realised who he was talking about. “The pissy one? Always has her period? Fuck, you’re a freak, Parrish.”  
Adam smiles, forgetting the strangeness that just passed.  
“How about you?” he asks, relieved to have told someone, to not have to carry it alone. “Are you in love with anyone?”  
“No,” Ronan replies a beat too fast, his voice muffles slightly as he turns his back on Adam. “Anyway, I’m tired. Let’s sleep.”  
Adam hums slightly in agreement and settles down into silence again. Next time they go to Nino’s he’ll ask Ronan to pay attention to the waitress, see if he thinks she’s into him. He feels excited at the prospect, and falls asleep with a small smile, butterflies filling his stomach and chest

Later in the night, Adam wakes to Ronan crying. He never mentions it again.


	7. grinding

Taking Adam out to get drunk after the news about Blue and Gansey dropped had not been one of Ronan’s finest ideas, he realised now as he half-pushed, half-carried the raving boy up the steep set of stairs to his apartment. Fishing out the key from Adam’s back pocket, he tried balancing him against the wall while opening the front door, but an Adam without support was an Adam lying on the ground, so Ronan ended up having to press him against the door with one hand and half his body while trying to find the lock, basically hidden behind the boy, with the other. This was the point at which Adam decided to grind his hips towards Ronan’s crotch suggestively, while his lips made wet contact with his right cheekbone. Ronan jumped back, one hand still on Adam’s chest to keep him upright.  
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Parrish?”  
Adam looked at him, part playful, part hurt, mainly drunk out of his mind. “You followed me home,” he slurred. “Just saying thanks.”  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Ronan mumbled before opening the door, managing to shuffle both himself and the other boy into the room without making their bodies touch more than necessary. 

Adam collapsed awkwardly on the bed, and Ronan got to work removing some of his clothing. The suggestive eyebrow wiggle he received when he zipped down the jeans made him blush, something he didn’t even know he was capable of, but he was certain Adam would be grateful in the morning so he ignored him and continued until the boy was in boxers and a t-shirt.  
“Come on, let’s tuck you in,” he said to the now mainly unconscious body, nudging him until he was under the covers. He stopped for a second to admire his work. Adam looked so peaceful, a slight smile tugging at his lips even in sleep - Ronan hadn’t seen his friend look so free of worry for weeks, maybe months. He let his fingers brush a few strands of hair from his forehead before turning to get some water and Aspirin. Before he could get far, however, he felt a sticky hand grasp his own, tugging him back to bed.  
“Don’t leave,” Adam mumbled, looking for all purposes still asleep. “Don’t leave, I don’t wanna be alone.”  
“I’m not going far,” Ronan protested, mainly for the sake of it. He let himself be pulled back to bed, and sat down on the mattress, still holding Adam’s hand. Tracing the skin lightly, he hummed an old Irish tune under his breath until the rise and fall of the covers told him that Adam was sleeping true. He granted himself one quick peck to the sleeping boy’s cheek, his chest burning with the want to do more, to have accepted the invitation outside the front door, before he left for the kitchen, splashing his face with ice cold water when he got there.

Returning as promised, he put the half full glass and the two white pills on the small, rickety table next to the bed before easing himself down onto the mattress on the floor, creeping under the covers.  
Rustling and the chill air against his back gave him some warning before a warm body pressed against him, arms wrapping around him tightly. He froze for a second, but when Adam pressed his face to Ronan’s shoulder, the wet made him realise that the boy was crying. Turning around awkwardly in the firm grip, he pulled Adam into a hug, and the boy nuzzled into his neck, Ronan’s arms holding the shaking boy together while whispering soothing words into his ear. It will be okay, man. I’m sorry, it’s shit, but I promise you it will be okay. He was no longer sure if the words were for the other boy’s benefit or his own.


	8. Chapter 8

another night, another hour where ronan had to lie uncomfortably on his mattress trying to ignore adam touching himself in his sleep, moaning and biting his lips.  
at first, ronan had been convinced adam wasn’t really asleep, but just secretly trying to get off in the middle of the night cause he was just that desperate but when ronan had tried talking to him (sue him for not wanting to listen to his major crush cuming in bed next to him without checking to see if there was any chance he could join, okay) and adam had not answered, and not seemed particularly awkward or embarrassed the morning after, ronan had realised this was a dream activity. kinda like sleep walking. sleep wanking.  
he would be lying if he said he wasn’t into it, but he never did anything about his growing erection. touching himself to the sounds felt wrong, or at least it should do. so here he was, on the uncomfortable, cheap mattress (and he was trying to convince adam to allow ronan to buy a new one. it wasn’t him ruining his back, damnit) with an uncomfortable, cheap problem between his legs and a very comfortable, not cheap at all best friend lying basically next to him moaning … his name? wait, what. ronan sat up abruptly. no, he had definitely heard correctly. the tiny sounds escaping adam’s lips were distinct ronans.  
oh, fuck.  
resigned, he eased himself back onto the mattress and splayed his fingers over the bulge, everything safely tucked into his boxers. this was innocent enough, right? basically the same as arms out of the covers. fingers out of the boxer. that was to be the rule now.  
he palmed himself through the thin fabric, let his fingers wrap around his balls and tugged slightly, a small gasp escaping his lips. stroking harder, his breath soon became laboured.  
ronan, oh, ronan … ronan. ronan? ronan?  
ronan opened his eyes abruptly. the ronans had changed tone and the shadow in the bed next to him was no longer lying flat. no, he was sitting up.  
oh, shit.  
“ronan, what are you doing?” adam sounded tired and confused.  
“the fuck does it look like i’m doing, parrish?”  
“i- i don’t know? you sounded weird. i was worried you were having a nightmare or something, and i wanted to help. was that not… oh.” adam had apparently noticed the placement of ronan’s arms and the prominent swelling of the covers.  
“oh,” he repeated.  
before ronan could come with a biting remark, adam had joined him on the mattress, slowly removing the covers.  
“oh,” he said again, but this time differently. it was definitely different.  
leaning down, adam wrapped his lips around the fabric, pressing softly on the bulge, before using his fingers to ease the leaking dick out of the boxers. his fingers around him, stroking a little uncertain, he looked up at ronan, a determined look on his face.  
“well, i said i would help.”


	9. cheiloproclitic

there was a certain chance that even the flute playing wasn’t an excuse for how intently adam watched ronan’s lips as he were playing. the way the usually so thin and tight and unwelcome lips wrapped around the mouthpiece, gently coaxing out sounds from faraway green islands, made adam thinks of something far closer, and far more intimate. and so he stared. and stared.

when the lips in question turned up in a mocking smile was when adam realised that ronan was no longer playing the flute, and hadn’t been for a long time. with some effort he looked away, licking his own lips before moving the flute in his own hand to his mouth. when he looked up, ronan’s eyes were firmly locked on adam’s lips, and he puffed them out a little just for him.


	10. mamihlapinatapei

ronan had positioned himself so that adam’s face was reflected in the mirror, and so he spent most of the trip watching him watching the passing scenery, watched him read a text book, watch him fall asleep with his head resting against the window, as ronan himself vaguely nodded and agreed to the constant stream of monologue coming from the driver’s seat. gansey didn’t even realise ronan’s mind was elsewhere. gansey was unstoppable.

some times ronan imagined he almost caught adam watching him in the mirror too, but when he looked, adam’s eyes were always elsewhere. out the window, in the book, closed. he looked so worried, ronan wanted to lean back, put a hand on his knee and tell him they would be fine, he would be fine, there was no need to look so concerned cause ronan was sure. but he never did. unable to stop himself though, he made a snide comment, and was rewarded with meeting adam’s gaze fleetingly in the mirror. it flashed like lightning through his body, and he was surprised no one noticed.

adam half-listened (literally) to ronan and gansey’s conversation as he watched the constant stream of trees outside the window. truth be told, most of his attention was on ronan, how his even tone kept gansey grounded, the voice of reason in a flight of frenzy. sometimes he looked into the mirror between the two boys, where he could see ronan’s hostile gaze towards the road ahead of them. he liked watching him when he wasn’t paying attention, enjoyed pretending like it meant something, like he could understand ronan easier, understand ronan at all, by watching him when he was unguarded. but ronan was never unguarded. a couple of times he almost caught adam looking, and his blood pulsated like crazy. but adam was never caught. almost never.

he was trying to focus on the page in front of him, which was very unhelpfully on sexual attraction in humans versus primates, when ronan made an usually rude comment. adam looked up and met ronan’s gaze in the mirror. both whipped their heads away quickly, but not before adam could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips, hear it in his ear. not before he could see the reaction in ronan’s eyes. or did he just imagine it.

and so the car ride went. ronan looked down and adam looked up, adam looked down and ronan looked up, and gansey kept on talking, oblivious to the tragedy taking place right next to him.


	11. idk smut

“rrronan”

“what”

“pleeease”

“no”

adam, creeping up behind ronan where he was sitting on the bed, draped himself over his boyfriend’s shoulders, head hanging down to partially block the book in ronan’s lap that he was trying to read. cue big puppy eyes.

“PLEASE RONAN” the exclamation points were implied. ronan shrugged him off.

“i am reading, douchebag. i am not having sex with you right now”

adam crawled onto the floor, placed himself between ronan’s legs so he couldn’t help but notice

“what if i do this” he eased two fingers into his mouth, suckled on them daintily through pursed lips before pulling them out slowwwly so slowly all while keeping eye contact with ronan who swallowed audibly

“i said no”

adam bit his lip, eyes half lidded like a porn star, as he let the wet fingers slip down his naked chest (the asshole was wearing minimal clothing) and down into his boxers

“dude. no”

adam pouted, still with his hand between his legs. “please pretty please ro. i.  
am.   
so.   
needy”

ronan huffed and laid, belly down, onto the bed. maybe to hide an erection, maybe not, who knew really

adam joined him, squirming up next to him, onto him, on top of him, until he found that perfect place where ronan’s back dipped to straddle. he used his finger to trace the tattoo (from imagination, as it could not be seen through the t-shirt). (ronan noticed adam’s memory was terribly accurate)

“i know you wanna,” adam breathed, suddenly close to his ear

“fucking reading. have some fucking patience”

“i am being such,” adam’s tongue played with ronan’s earlobe momentarily, “a bad boy” his mouth found the fragile softness behind the ear and perfectly formed lips formed a tight circle around the skin, sucking, teeth nipping, and ronan’s pushed palms into tired eyes. “you’re not going to make this easy, are you”

adam was still biting softly, tongue playing with the sensitive skin, but sounds of agreement could be heard through the throaty subdued moans. ronan closed the book and rested his head back to give adam better access. latin could fucking wait

\---

ronan had gotten adam under him, pinning him against the mattress in a brusque manner. his t-shirt was gone and he kept the naked skin away from the body under him, letting their first point of contact be at their crotch. he moved a little, and a gasp came from under him

“you should have let me read, shouldn’t you”

adam fluttered, heaving for breath as ronan moved again, using the rough fabric of his jeans to tease against the bulge in adam’s underwear.

“ronan,” he said “ronan”

“what,” ronan replied, taking enjoyment in the boy coming undone under him. adam, hands held tightly over his head, lifted up his torso from the mattress as much as he could muster, straining his neck, desperation in his eyes, but ronan didn’t even have to lean back. there was no way.

“please let me kiss you, ronan,” the last word, his name, turned into a groan as ronan’s hips bucked, and ronan rewarded him with a kiss. adam caught up fast. “ronan,” he moaned and their lips met again. “oh, ronan lynch”

“fucking hell,” ronan said and released adam so that he could pull off his jeans, before he was onto him again, this time not worrying if naked skin met naked skin


	12. matthew 7:12

ronan could not believe his eyes, and he had to rub them one, two, three times before he brought the phone back to his ear.  
“what the fuck, matthew. it’s 7:12 fucking am, this phone number was for fucking emergencies not for waking me up in the middle of the fucking night.”  
a giggle tickled his ear from the other end of the line and had it been anyone but his younger brother he would have hung up. no, he would have fucking killed them. this god-forsaken hour, and on a saturday? disgusting.  
“what do you want,” he spit out, crawling out of bed and peeping out to check if gansey was still asleep. he was, lucky bastard. he lingered in the doorway, watching the rumpled hair shining in the pink morning sunlight, and something inside him shifted.  
“…today, and you promised to be there.” matthew’s voice weaved itself back into his line of focus, and he grunted questioningly.  
“the yard sale, ronan. at the church. you promised me you could help sell cakes.”  
ronan was pretty sure he had not said anything like that at all, not so specific as to promise anyway, but his younger brother was as much a politician as the older. still, going to the church might not be a bad idea.  
‘i’ll be there in 5,“ he said before hanging up and going to take a piss. the only way this early morning rise could be justified was if he could give adam the same treatment matthew had given him

\--

adam was done. he had come home from the last shift a little over 3am but had not, due to homework and an intense need to shower, gone to bed until closer to 5. he was hoping for at least 5 hours of sleep, as he didn’t have the computer at the library booked until at 11. but no. oh no. the universe had other plans. and by the universe, he meant ronan.  
less than 2.5 hours of sleep had he gotten before dreams of vacations and double beds with luxury mattresses had been interrupted by an obnoxious knocking. adam knew who it was before he even opened his eyes. and, right as rain, adam found himself with an abnormally chipper ronan standing outside his door.  
suddenly feeling conscious of his bare chest, he wrapped his arms around his torso, trying to look strict. apparently, it was not very effective as he got a wet bag of something thrown in his face before ronan pushed his way into the small room.  
“it smells rank in here,” he commented before settling himself on the bed.  
collecting the bag from the floor, adam peeked into it.  
“what’s this?”  
ronan grinned. “your breakfast. i got it, well stole it, from the kitchen, they’re making fruit salad.”  
“no, but what is it?” adam popped one of the tiny bright spheres in his mouth and although he would never admit to it, it was delicious.  
“melon balls.” ronan threw a dirty t-shirt at adam’s face -to be honest he was getting sick of having things thrown at his face, where was the respect- before yawning.  
“now get dressed, loser. you’re helping me sell cake today.”


	13. things you said when we were driving

they had been trying to get the clutch work just right for hours now. hours of ronan yelling at him. hours of the motor yelling at him. hours of him yelling at himself. adam was very close to giving up

he knew how clutches worked, in theory. in his head, they worked fucking fine, it was just that in real life, his nervous leg couldn’t find the right spot, and in real life, he was shaking so bad, and at one point, ronan had rested his hand heavy on adam’s knee and ronan’s fingers weren’t shaking one bit and of course the engine had caught, purring like a satisfied cat.   
ronan had smiled at him, sharply and victorious, and adam had wondered if throwing up would ease the nausea as well as pissing ronan off more than it would damage adam’s jeans. risk and reward. he had decided against it

now though, as he stared out the window as ronan listed up his top 500 favourite swears, he wished that he had. at least he would’ve been home now.  
he never properly paid attention to ronan’s tirades, it was comfort in their regularity and musicality only. when it stopped, that’s when his attention spiked.  
the quiet was uncanny, it took shape in the car and swallowed them both and adam kept watching out the window but he could see nothing but ronan.  
“i believe in you, asshole, you can fucking do this.”  
that was the last thing ronan had said before the silence, before throwing a quiet tantrum like a 5 year old. adam wasn’t sure if anyone had ever said that before. no, he was sure. no one had ever told adam that they believed in him. and ronan never lied.  
so this time when adam eased the clutch out, it caught, and the vibrations in his legs and the pull in his stomach might not be so bad after all


End file.
